


Sentiment and Submission

by GammaRays



Series: Sentiment and Understanding [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Aftercare, Angst, Bondage, Ciel gets educated, Collars, Dom Sebastian Michaelis, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Sub Ciel Phantomhive, Subspace, wholesome BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaRays/pseuds/GammaRays
Summary: A scandalous book piques Ciel's curiosity, leading to theoretical and practical lessons delivered by none other than his faithful devil. Though eager, the man finds his learning hindered by incorporeal demons of his mind and a chase after atonement for his past.





	Sentiment and Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Third installment of my 'missing scenes' from Sentiment and Understanding fic, but can be read on its own. Quick overview for those who didn't read SaU but wanna give this a go: after several 'unfortunate events' Ciel abandons his revenge and London, but Sebastian lets him live for longer than he expected. Through Ciel's twenties, the two live from day to day, without any real plans, spending their time traveling.

Japan – that was their next destination. It was only natural that the wandering human and his otherworldly companion should finally find their way to the mysterious, enchanting land of the rising sun. The advantage of his companion being a demon was Ciel finding himself in a small delightful house near the mountains already before nightfall, where he was surrounded by lush greenery with a clear view of Mount Fuji, and a trickling little stream flowing underneath the house in which he could dip his feet if he’d sit in the open door of what he assumed was the living room.

Abandoned, empty – a tiny temporary sanctuary just for the two of them.

And naturally, it was half a ruin. While the demon busied himself with fundamental things such as fixing the roof or ensuring there was an actual bed instead of torn mats to sleep on, Ciel insisted on contributing – as he usually would – even if it was more cosmetic touches, such as fishing out branches from the stream or dusting and mopping the floors. The man became a bit more lenient about Sebastian using his powers for maintenance than he was back at the manor, but he still secretly cherished the moments where they turned a weathered building into a living space, _together_ , in a human way. Even if the demon constantly nagged him to watch out and not trip on the wet stones, or to take a break outside when cleaning to prevent an asthmatic episode.

In the evening after dinner they both entertained themselves with looking through things that were left behind in the little house. Sebastian sat in a heavy armchair – that Ciel wasn’t sure was there when they first got there – engrossed in some thick book. Ciel was on the floor supporting himself on his elbows, flicking idly through a stack of other books without a hope of actually understanding a single word so sadly, he resigned himself to looking for pictures, hoping to find some photographs or sketches. Two oil lamps lit the room with a warm, cosy glow.   

It was a certain withered hardback with yellowing pages and no title on its front that started to look promising in terms of providing the young man with some entertainment. The first picture a few pages in was a black and white drawing of a man and a woman in an embrace, from the back. He wondered if it was some pitiful illustrated romance novel and if he could get a laugh out of it. That was until he kept turning the pages; his eyes kept widening, and a dust of pink stretched through his cheeks right up to his ears.

The illustrations were quite varied – some were single and _explicitly_ detailed, stretching over an entire page and depicting the couple engaging in various _creative_ kinds of sexual acts; from cunningulus and fellatio, through anal sex and shared masturbation, to the questionable use of countless toys and objects the relatively inexperienced man has never seen before. He noticed that quite a common theme in many of them was binding the woman in some odd but nearly artistic ways. Other pictures were a series of smaller drawings, looking quite like illustrated instructions. With a furrowed brow he looked through the steps of tying a rope, the end result showing a woman’s chest with the rope tied in a pentagram, some binds squeezing her bosom in a way that he was certain would be painful or at least highly uncomfortable. He couldn’t help imagining a rough length of rope digging into his own skin. He shifted where he lay. Coming across another set of directions, he was surprised to see that one to be three-pages long, but it made sense when the final picture showed a woman apparently _suspended_ from the ceiling, arms behind her, legs bent at the knees, her whole body almost covered entirely with complex binds.

It was all tastefully and skilfully drawn, but completely outrageous.

Ciel was ensnared.

Cursing himself for never learning the exotic language, he knew his only hope of sating his exponentially growing curiosity would be to ask the creature sitting by the window. Though sex became frequent for them by now, _talking_ about it outside of the bedroom was something the human had yet to become comfortable with. He was also quite certain that, should the demon turn out to be knowledgeable in this area, he’d be teased endlessly about his ignorance.

But he _really_ wanted to know.

Would curiosity kill the cat?

Putting his cold hands to his cheeks in an attempt to get rid of his blush he managed to gather up the courage to stand up and walk up behind the armchair with the temptingly scandalous book in his hands. The demon surely could have heard and sensed him – he was either feigning ignorance, or his own read had him _that_ captivated. He stood there for a while, frustrated with himself for not knowing how to voice his question so that in the end he opted for unceremoniously dropping the volume in the demon’s lap.

‘Translate this for me.’

His voice was just a little bit too high, making his order sound nearly like a question.

Sebastian sighed in exasperation so loudly he almost whined, not all too happy about his Master _genuinely_ interrupting him so suddenly – the manipulative historical account was surely picking up pace with how skilfully it butchered and lied about last century’s past events. With little interest he picked up the new task his little Lord has kindly _gifted_ him with.

‘Young Master wants me to translate and read this _entire_ text in English right now?’

‘Tch.’ Ciel shifted on his feet. ‘Of course not. I want you to tell me, at least more less, what the deal is with this… vulgarity.’

His contractor’s choice of words sparked Sebastian’s interest. A grin slowly split his lips as he flipped the book open on a random page. ‘I _see_.’

This only grated on Ciel’s nerves. ‘Well. What _do_ you see, then.’

‘ _Ah_ , this nation and its taste for things considered taboo by the west…’

The demon held the pages, letting them flip continuously one by one in a blur. Ciel wasn’t sure if even he could absorb information at such a fast rate. ‘Wha- You’re not even reading it!’

The book snapped closed. ‘I don’t _need_ to; there’s nothing new I could learn from it.’ The mismatched eyes widened as the demon stood up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. ‘Should I remind you, lordling? I’m not the oldest of demons, but I _have_ lived for a while. There are no sins of the flesh unknown to me.’

Ciel regretted ever opening his mouth.

‘But _you_ seem most curious. Shall we discuss it over a cup of tea?’

 

They knelt at the low kitchen table on the floor, the human with his tea and the demon with his coffee – that he learned to enjoy – side by side as a black-nailed hand flipped idly and slowly through the pages.

‘To put it simply and shortly, erotic bondage is a way of mixing pain with pleasure, about power exchange, with the participants separately taking on a submissive and a dominant role – this is the general principle, but the scenes, as they are called, can take on any form and are always suited and planned out in a way so that both parties can get what they want. As a result, no scene is the same, and every couple is different. There can be more than two participants of course, but let’s keep it simple for now.’

Ciel tried to convince himself this wasn’t weird at all – this was just another of Sebastian’s lectures, another thing for him to learn about the world, and so he tried his best to listen with a student-like attention. The demon’s scholarly tone helped him buy into that silly illusion.

‘There is a skill, an _art_ to bondage. Even if you look at these drawings, there is an almost an aesthetically pleasing aspect to it with how the body is intertwined, _molded_ with the ropes, the cloths, the silken ribbons – all working together to produce the final art piece.’

The human nodded along in agreement. On some subconscious level, it was comforting and foolishly heart-warming to see the devil appreciative of something, seemingly _genuinely_ , instead of smirking depreciatively left and right. ‘But then- What happens then? When one has the submissive tied?’

‘ _That_ is limited only by human imagination; it can be anything ranging from simple intercourse and what one would consider typical sexual acts – though given a new dimension through the scene – to catering to niche interests of individuals involved; odd particularities that they find arousing. Lashings and spankings are almost a standard; pleasuring oneself and spending on the submissive’s blindfolded and gagged face, pouring molten wax onto skin, using all kinds of erotic toys, or dressing up as someone or something else are some other rather common examples. Then you have a handful of individuals with more peculiar tastes – toying with human vomit or excretions-’

The bluenet made a gagging sound and his hand shot up to cover his mouth.

‘-but perhaps that’s not something novices need to know about.’ No matter how hard he tried, the demon could not suppress a snicker – he got a death glare in return to which he smiled brightly. ‘But rest assured, the aim of such kind of… abuse and restraints and humiliations, isn’t solely to hurt and degrade. It is to bring pleasure and release with the help of pain.’

Ciel’s mouth went a little bit dry. His voice was accusing, incredulous. ‘ _Pleasure_? How can you derive pleasure – sexual pleasure, no less! – from being tied and _beaten,_ or beating another?’ 

The devilish grin only grew wider as he drawled. ‘Come now, little Master; don’t pretend to be so _prudish_ – I can sense it on you that you’re becoming aroused, thinking of and _seeing_ such things. But _ah_ , perhaps you are confused as to why something like this should cause such a reaction?’

The man tried to say something but in the end, his silence spoke for him.

‘You see, little one, the dominant and the submissive get their pleasure from such scenes in very different ways. The dominant party typically enjoys the power, the duty, taking charge of the scene and almost caring for their submissive who, on the other hand, relishes in giving up control and responsibility, including that of their own body and even mind. In serving their master, fulfilling their desires…’ He wasn’t sure if his contractor was convinced or if he understood. ‘Normally, such ideas might not be entirely appealing, but with adequate setting and clearly laid-out rules beforehand, a human can reach a state of mind where it is an experience like no other. When only humans are involved, the importance of communication throughout is paramount; I’m sure you can appreciate how easily a submissive can be exploited beyond what was agreed. Although…’ He licked his lips and took the leap to make the daring, though irresistible – in his mind – offer. ‘Should young Master ever wish to put this theory in practice, there’s little to nothing you _couldn’t_ do to me; you could do whatever your tiny heart should desire – I can be the perfect dog; a demonic hound at your feet, _little king_.’ He almost salivated at the thought of the delicious pain his Master could deliver.

But there was a frown on the young face. 

‘Oh? Is that dissatisfaction? Disappointment? Would you rather hear me howl in pain and bleed to unconsciousness instead?’ The demon chuckled. ‘My, my, young Master. You do have a cruel streak after all.’

‘Tch. Dumb demon. You think yourself so clever, yet you’re completely oblivious sometimes. Thought you took pride in knowing me inside and out?’  

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, his grin faltering. ‘Intents and thoughts are different than emotions, embedded deep inside the mind and soul – they don’t give off a smell so easily. If I’m so wrong, do correct me, young Master.’ He leaned in just slightly, taking a whiff of his human theatrically. ‘You might want to explain why you’re feeling so much more… _flustered_ all of a sudden, while you’re at it.’

Ciel scowled which was nothing but endearing and entertaining with how his cheeks reddened further. He crossed his arms, looking away, becoming way more ill at ease with the discussion. ‘Whatever. Forget it.’

It was the devil’s turn to frown in surprise at the mortal’s childish defensive reaction and willingness to give up so easily. He could have been disappointed, but he was more curious as to what he was hiding – he was certain to get it out of him in the end.

‘I do only jest, little one. Howev- Oh.’

 _Oh_.

Ciel’s cheeks burned a deeper crimson still as realisation dawned on the devil – he was certain he got it right this time.

‘Can’t be… Is it possible that my Master is considering taking on the serving role instead?’

The mortified man wished for nothing else but for lightning to strike him, while the demon felt a rush of lust through his human veins at this new development – _oh_ , the surprises were what he adored his soul for. With delight, he twirled a lock of shoulder-length slate hair around his finger.

‘There is no shame in such desires, my Lord. Why should you be embarrassed? And in front of _me_? Your servant who knows your soul so intimately? You know I would be more than happy to teach you all you’d wish to learn.’

The man tried to shut out the sultry tone and think clearly – but indeed, why should he be so ashamed? He brought it on himself anyway. Because he was _curious_. He already bedded the demon often; would it really be such a crime to make things even more interesting? His soul was damned anyway.

Licking his lips, he cleared his throat. Once. Twice. ‘I, um. I’d like to… try.’

When he looked up, the other’s irises swam with fresh, arterial blood. ‘Perfect.’ Suddenly, he released the hair and sat back, his seductive act replaced once more with the teacher-like one, giving his contractor a bit of a mental whiplash. ‘Very well, then. I propose that, since it would be your first time, we shall focus on what you’d like to get out of it. I will be most satisfied with whatever you choose anyway.’

That smile was downright predatory. The back of Ciel’s mind screamed that he was making a huge mistake. ‘I… I’m not really sure what I want. From this…’ It was an embarrassing confession, but he supposed they were past this stage at this point in the conversation.

‘Fret not; we shall figure something out. Do tell, then; do you wish to be tied?’  

He was going to have this conversation like a normal adult. He wouldn’t blush more or stammer like some innocent virgin. ‘Y-yeah.’

‘Gagged and blindfolded? Collared?’

He was digging his own grave, wasn’t he? His hammering heart certainly thought so. ‘Yes.’

‘Spanked? Hit?’

Ciel’s hand twitched and he flinched as if he’s been struck already. ‘De- depends.’

‘Elaborate?’

Pink tongue wetted and pearly teeth worried his bottom lip. ‘Don’t… don’t hit my face.’ Illogically, despite everything the man went through in the past, Ciel couldn’t shake off the feeling that a slap to the cheek was one of the most humiliating, degrading actions – he couldn’t bear the thought of his _trusted_ demon doing it to him.

‘Worry not, young Master. The fragility of the human body puts significant restrictions on such things. Typically, whipping and spanking is limited to the upper back and shoulders, and most commonly, the backside – but only the mid and lower sections; any higher, and there is a risk of considerable kidney damage.’ The demon put his hand on the small of the mortal’s back to emphasise his point. ‘But I digress. If you do not wish to be hit in any way across your face, I shall not do it.’

Ciel nodded his appreciation, wondering if the demon _would_ have done it if he hadn’t voiced his concerns.   

‘Is there anything you’d want to add to the list now?’

‘No, I don’t think so…’

‘Very well. I suppose this will suffice for a first time. Now, onto some rules. When in scene, you will call me _Sir_.’ Sebastian paused for a single heartbeat and continued when he wasn’t met with protests. ‘You will obey my orders. And you will trust me. These are your main three tasks.’ He saw Ciel nod. ‘Next comes your safeword.’

‘My… what?’

‘Safeword. It’s a short, memorable word that you will say when you don’t want to do something – this word will not only stop the current action; it brings an end to the entire scene, no questions asked. And with that comes your last task; you must use this word only when absolutely necessary, not when you simply don’t feel like obeying. That’s why the three-colour system usually works best. When I ask you for ‘your colour’, you have three quite self-explanatory options; green means everything is fine and we can proceed, yellow lets me know that you’re apprehensive but that I may proceed with caution, and red stops everything. Essentially, in this system, red becomes your safeword, but the benefit of it compared to a safeword alone is the intermediate stage where we can rectify your source of anxiety without completely stopping the scene. Do you understand everything?’

Ciel exhaled a heavy sigh through his nose, somewhat overwhelmed by all the information, though he couldn’t deny the idea of that kind of feedback system put his mind more at ease. ‘Yeah… Just. I’m surprised, I have to say. I wouldn’t have expected there would be so much to this.’

‘There is; but it is only for the best, young Master. As you know-’

‘Humans are weak and breakable. I know.’

The demon said nothing to that, only inclined his head in something of a seated bow. ‘Shall we begin tomorrow evening? You will have time to sleep on it and reconsider, if you’d like.’ The human was becoming suspicious of the level of _consideration_ his demon was showing. ‘Now, let me prepare you something to eat and then you should rest; you’ve had a long day, my Lord.’

 

Ciel would never consider backing out – his pride and curiosity wouldn’t let him – but the sentiment of having the option to do so was comforting. After an eternally long wait – for both the demon and the human – the following night finally came. The air started to charge up with electric tension by the time the sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon and Sebastian was preparing Ciel’s bath and clothes for him to redress into.

He couldn’t believe the sluggishness of the clock’s arm as he sat in his armchair and waited for his human.

But ah, _finally_ , his patience paid off.

Barefoot and soundless soft steps brought the man back to the living room, his body clean and pleasantly warm with the most delicate rosy colour to his cheeks. His dark hair fell around his shoulders, slightly wavy from the ponytail it was in during the bath, its ends almost black where they must have dipped into the water. His black pants and grey shirt with the top two buttons undone clung to his body where it was still a little damp.

He stood there in front of the demon, silent, looking like an irresistible sin with that gentle dishevelment about him. The devil in the plush seat almost salivated at the sight, surprisingly more enticing than the idea of his Master parading naked in front of him – not that he would mind in the slightest, but he could understand the human appreciation of ‘leaving things to the imagination’. Not as if he didn’t know every inch of the man’s body, though.

Sebastian was in no rush, and he allowed himself to enjoy the view of his _lordling_ as he waited obediently. He had no idea how much willpower it took for the man to not fidget under the intense gaze, to not shift his weight from foot to foot, to not avert his eyes in defeat. To not snap at his _dominant_ to get on with it and give him the satisfaction of seeing Ciel bend under his scrutiny.

At long last the demon rose from his spot, and with him, so did Ciel’s heart rate. He guarded his reactions diligently, not letting a single sound escape him. He managed to hold Sebastian’s gaze as he stood tall in front of him despite the submissive nature of his role. Giving up control still had an unknown alluring aroma to it, but he found he couldn’t exactly let _go_ ; he clutched _the known_ tight like a cat stuck on a high branch – needlessly, because he knew that logically, Sebastian would catch him. The demon in question would surely appreciate the metaphor, too.

The smell of his emotions was so potent that Sebastian could feel his inner mental barrier like a glass wall underneath his fingertips. It was completely expected. The demon didn’t think for one second that his little mortal would give in so easily, simply accepting his odd part without at least a little guidance in the right direction. But what really made the air between them thick and heavy was Ciel’s tension and nervousness which he hid perfectly – to a _human_ eye – underneath his unwavering stare. If Sebastian had realised his ability to experience emotions earlier, he would have recognised the twitch in his own chest as not only admiration, but also warm endearment.

‘You’re very stressed.’ He spoke slowly, calmly. ‘Are you… _apprehensive_ of what’s about to happen?’

The demon knew the real answer. He also knew the answer that would be given.

‘I’m not.’ Ciel fell into the little trap, remembering just a second too late that Sebastian knew everything and was just toying with him – although his hurried and indignant answer would be self-explanatory to anyone.

The demon couldn’t suppress the briefest, satisfied smirk that accompanied his hand’s leisurely brushing through the man’s damp hair ends. ‘I think you might not be entirely honest with me here. I’d appreciate it if you were, _as agreed_.’ There probably was _something_ that the shorter of the two could have said to win back his dignity in this tiny game, but nothing came to his mind. Feeling bitter about being bested in such a banal manner he finally broke eye contact, his gaze falling on some spot behind Sebastian’s arm. As always, the demon could smell him. What he hoped for was that this little resentment wouldn’t get in the way of Ciel submitting. ‘But it’s alright to be anxious of the unknown, is it not?’ What the mortal didn’t know was that the demon’s objective was not to get on his nerves, but to slowly guide him into subspace and submission, and that lowering of Ciel’s eyes was the first step to playing out the scene they both agreed and _wanted_ to partake in – something that, in his nervousness, might have eluded Ciel momentarily.

The truth was that the bluenet didn’t know what to think or what to feel. The air around them felt strange to him, as if saturated with a questionable mixture of herbs or drugs that impaired his judgement. He didn’t know why he simply let Sebastian win this trivial argument, why he left his question unanswered. His downcast eyes left a bitter taste in his mouth. It felt as if one of his fingers was pried away from that branch, from _the known_. With each moment it would be more difficult to keep holding on, and Ciel wasn’t sure how he felt about it at all.

‘Remember. From now on, _I_ am the Master.’

The quiet reminder rang in his ears.

Despite his determination to remain stoic, his shoulders sagged and he sighed at the brush of demon’s fingertips across his collarbones, down to his shirt to languidly undo the rest of its buttons. He didn’t understand why he was simultaneously starting to feel weightless and heavy. He didn’t understand why the feeling of Sebastian’s skin against his was so different this time, or _how_ exactly it varied from all the other times. They barely even started. It wasn’t exactly a heavily erotic touch either, planting uncontrollable lust inside him – it wasn’t arousal and carnal pleasure building. Something else entirely was growing inside of him; something that stripped him bare much faster than his demon’s fingers.

Wordless and rapt, Sebastian marvelled at Ciel’s subtle change; like an unfurling rose under the sun’s warm caress – slow, but definitely there. Delicately, he spun the man-turning-putty around, amazed how easily he let himself be guided. Brushing the lengthy locks to one side and over Ciel’s shoulder, he leaned down to plant a chaste kiss on the nape of that pale, lovely neck now exposed to him.

The young man froze – that wasn’t what he expected. The surprise shook him slightly before he melted further. Words weren’t easy to find when his unbuttoned shirt was dragged down his shoulders and feather-like kisses were peppered on his exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Especially not when he expected touches that would leave bruises behind instead.

‘Aren’t… you supposed to be hurting me right about now, or something?’ He wanted to sound impatient but his voice was weak, despite him doing nothing but standing there.

The lips on his shoulder split into a grin. His typical Master – although there was an irony in thinking of him as such, since for the briefest blink in his long demonic life, _he_ was the one giving orders. ‘There is so little you know, _pet_. But naturally, I’m here teach you.’

The man bristled – whether at the offense to his knowledge or the degrading new _nickname_ or both – he wasn’t sure. A reprimanding comment swelled on his tongue but again, it stayed there, unspoken. His confusion grew, but so did Sebastian’s sense of accomplishment at the little victories.

‘Now. I shall teach you...’ Demonic lips kissed away the bitterness of the insult, slowly but surely pulling Ciel’s shirt lower until it stopped at his elbows as the man held his arms close to himself. The demon waited, his ceased movements a command in itself. ‘However, you must _want_ to be taught. Give up control. Don’t anticipate. Simply take what I give you. Receive and respond – that’s all you need to do.’ The last words were murmured by his contractor’s ear, making a shiver shake his thin frame.

Sebastian was not human, and so his patience was plentiful. He kept the fabric in his hands until Ciel gave in and finally lowered his arms. With one final tug the shirt slid off with a whisper and fell to the floor.

Curl up and hide – that’s all the young man wanted to do. He felt unbearably exposed, as if the piece of clothing was much more than just a shield from the room’s chill. Every emotion was heightened but blurred – the fine details were gone as one sensation blurred into another. As if he was sinking. His body shook with unmistakeable fear and feeling of being overpowered, even though the body behind him was barely touching his – but the sensations were without their sharp edges. He didn’t feel the need to run from them; he just needed something to ground him.

And as always, his demon delivered. His slender hands splayed on his now naked back were an anchor. But what mattered even more was the single word he spoke into his skin. ‘ _Good_.’

Ciel found himself starving for the praise which brought him a warm contentment of magnitude so great it made no sense to him. His ribcage felt too full. His mind sank further. He was gripping onto the branch with one hand only.

‘Give your tension over to me. _Breathe_.’

Everything in Ciel’s mind came to revolve around that voice. No, that voice _was everything_. The mortal wanted to bathe in it, press into it. Instead, he leaned into those palms that travelled leisurely over every plane of his exposed upper body – not to arouse, but to calm. To soothe. He imagined them soaking up the strain that thrummed just beneath his skin. He _felt_ it. It brought such elation that a quiet whimper got caught up between his trembling breaths. The demon crooned with soft shushing, immediately drawing more noises from the bluenet in his hands, who at that moment lacked the capacity to understand why that touch and voice suddenly became so vital to his very existence. The man had no idea how long it went on for, but with each passing moment he felt himself being stripped down from his barriers and walls further and further.

Noting the irony at such a thought, the demon felt blessed to be witnessing such a breath-taking spectacle. He watched his ruler, who still had noble pride deep in his bones, drop his shoulders once more, his chin coming closer and lower towards his chest, possibly subconsciously. Were he breathing, he would need to hold the air in his lungs lest he distracted his beautiful prey from his magnificent unfurling. But alas, he had to speak, albeit in a quiet whisper. ‘Do you trust me, young one?’

Drinking up his every heartbeat, the rush of blood through his veins, the demon waited. And although he could hear all the sounds the quivering muscle in the mortal ribcage made, he was deaf to the inner conflict of its owner. Did he trust the demon that had a claim on his soul? It seemed like simultaneously rhetorical and complex question to the human.

The demon waited.

The mortal wetted his lips.

‘Yes.’

A grin of triumph was difficult to fight off. Not yet. _Almost_. The creature had to approach his game quietly – with caution and gentleness, patiently, so as to not spook him; especially in those last steps. ‘ _Yes_?’

Ciel could hear and _feel_ his heart thudding in his ears. He swallowed, though his mouth and throat were a desert. With burning lungs – he still floated under the surface, _he wouldn’t hold out much longer_ – the man took a weak breath and exhaled with just as feeble whisper. ‘Y-yes, _sir_.’

Sebastian stepped closer, cornering him further. He almost had him where he wanted him; where Ciel _needed_ to be. ‘Very good, little one.’

He drowned, he _drowned_ – but oh, it didn’t matter; not when his devil’s praise was his oxygen. Not when his lungs finally filled with air once a collar was fastened around his throat. Illogical. _Like an animal_. His skin _crawled_ with unexplainable relief.

He let go.

A chocolate brown leather collar with a metal buckle at the back and a tiny stormy blue gem at the front, almost a mockery of the Phantomhive stone – the devil marvelled at his adornment of choice as it stood out so becomingly against the pale skin in front of him. But there was something else, something much more enchanting that made his fangs sharpen and his claws lengthen. His little Master finally fell, finally sank down for him, right into Sebastian’s very arms. Had he been a human, maybe he would have missed it – the grand change was only in the mouth-watering shift in his soul’s scent. Since he re-entered the room after his bath, it has been steady but slowly calming. Quietening with Sebastian’s words and touches, but with reluctance. But at that moment, the spark and the energy of his essence was completely subdued; controlled, tamed, and offered willingly on a silver platter for Sebastian to do with as he pleased. The sudden change in Ciel’s state of mind left the demon impressed – for a first time, his trembling mortal reached the coveted subspace rather easily, with very little coaxing. He was impressed but not surprised; his noble always took on the roles expected of him, and this was no different. And yet, the _sincerity_ of his stillness and his submission was a wonder to the demon nonetheless.

The submissive in question wasn’t capable of such sophisticated musings; everything was a fog around him, his mind and thoughts and emotions nothing else but an entangled, dispersed mist passing through and dancing around his numb body. He felt as if he had imbibed too much, and yet it was different. This was _good_. This was _pleasant_. Nothing worried him; he felt free. He would happily float here forever – the only other thing he craved was that voice and that touch that grounded him somewhat in this gentle contentment.

That short moment of silence between them was almost holy – it seemed completely vital and necessary, and breaking thereof would be an unforgiveable crime. A faux pas. A breach of trust. A break of an unspoken rule.

In an attempt to ease the human’s shivering, the demon pulled him in against his own clothed chest and wrapped his arms around his middle despite knowing that the trembling had nothing to do with the room’s temperature which he kept at a comfortable level. The shaking body pressed itself into him – _molded_ into him, craving closeness and keening, needy, as if the man has never felt happiness greater than the one he now received from this simple embrace.

‘Your colour?’ The demon’s question was whispered.

‘Green. _Green_.’

They stood like this for an undefined length of time. Unsurprisingly, the demon was the first to pull away, and unsurprisingly, his little charge tried to lean into him again, to chase his warmth.

‘No. Stay.’

Sebastian’s command was calm and quiet and without any malice or anger, but Ciel’s shame at being reprimanded still flared up in the quiet space. The smell was so sudden and so strong that it masked the scent of _something else_ , but on top of being too brief, the sheer intensity of it took Sebastian by surprise, leaving him without a chance to identify the other sensation. He gave it no further thought as he walked back and sat comfortably in the armchair.

‘Turn around, pet. Kneel. _Good_. Now crawl to me.’

Like a hawk, he watched him perform the degrading act with a grace fitting for a Phantomhive earl, despite his initial hesitation. Even though their eyes didn’t meet as he crawled, the demon drank up the delectable sight of his wide-blown pupil and somewhat unfocused blue eye, the soft glow of his marked one, the delicate rosy tint that returned to his cheeks, and that collar which complemented it all. He spread his knees, making room for the man to approach him closely. He kept his expression stoic; unreadable, but calm, relaxed, and approachable – or so he tried. He didn’t want his mortal – in the fragile unfamiliar state that he was – to be fearful of him. At the same time, he didn’t want to leave him any clues as to what he was thinking; he didn’t want the man analysing, overthinking. All he needed to do was feel.

Ciel, for his part, masked his short moment of reluctance well – or he would have, if he had a human audience. The last few awake cells in his brain registered the fact that all his proud ancestors were surely turning in their graves as the only living pitiful excuse of an heir to the name crawled on his hands and knees like a dog for a demon. It didn’t make him stop; not before he found himself between the creature’s legs. If he weren’t calmed down before by the collar, he would have found his peace now; the position he was in was self-explanatory, the other’s intentions clear. He knew what he wanted, and Ciel knew how to give it to him just so that the demon was satisfied. Still, he waited patiently for an order. If only to hear that voice again.

In his role as a temporary dominant, Sebastian was more than pleased with his charge’s display, giving him a reward of a light caress to his hair and gentle scratches to his scalp as if he were a cat. He felt the man melt as he guided his head to rest against the inner side of his thigh. Serenity hung delicately yet densely in the air as he did so.

‘Close your eyes.’ He received unquestioning compliance. ‘Open your mouth.’

It was with a soft amusement that the demon watched his Lord obey, especially as he parted his lips wide into a perfect ‘o’, more than ready to please the demon in all the indecent ways he wanted. With a brief giddiness like that of a human child, he reached for the plate on the shelf behind him and placed a piece of a chocolate chip cookie on his Master’s pink tongue.

‘Bite down. Carefully. Don’t choke, now.’

Sebastian Michaelis did not in any way have a food fetish – not when the mere thought of almost every human ‘delicacy’ turned his mouth sour. His goal at that moment was to ground his submissive Master in his newfound subspace; to make him feel at home there. To teach him that bondage and submission, though inherently sexual, didn’t only bring pleasure and satisfaction from erotic acts alone, but more so through the state of mind. And what else gave Ciel Phantomhive – even in his twenties – more simple joy than sweet pastries?

Besides, it was more than entertaining to watch the odd order scrunch up the man’s features with confusion as he slowly closed his mouth and bit into the crunchy treat. His eyebrows lifted, but his lids remained closed as he chewed slowly and swallowed.

‘Good. Put your hands behind your back and I’ll give you more.’ The man complied, always wanting to excel and be perfect in every role, in every task, as always. ‘Open up.’ And Ciel did, biting down on a large biscuit to break off a piece once prompted, his face once more reminding Sebastian of some small, adorable animal – a kitten, or a bunny, not unlike those once sold by his old company.

Peaceful, almost domestic and innocent; that was the picture that the two created, and it was definitely what the mortal felt in his heart. Altogether the demon fed him two large cookies before deeming it enough and, with a warning, bringing a glass of water to the rosy lips and tipping slowly. He noted the closed eyes starting to flutter, craving to open, and the hand clasped behind the man’s back twitching, desperate to change position. The demon could have him tied and blindfolded with a snap of his fingers, but it wasn’t the constraint of senses and movement that he wanted – at least not now; this would come later. Now, he wanted his Lord to restrict himself through his own doing, _for him_ , and to enjoy it – hence the pastries; to help him associate submission with something pleasant. Although evidently effective, it was a very blatant approach for sure, and he wondered whether Ciel would comment on it later on.

‘Did you like that, little one?’

The bluenet licked his lips one final time as he gave a happy nod. ‘Thank you, sir.’ The tiny passing smile on his lips pleased the devil more than he wanted to admit.

Seeing that his human has been so far comfortable in his new role, he decided it was a good time to gradually take things further. Leaning forward, he swiped his index and middle fingers across the man’s chin, picking up a near-invisible speck from his skin and tutting somewhat dramatically, somewhat playfully.

‘What a messy little thing you are, getting crumbs all over yourself’. Small cheeks reddened delectably yet again. He opened his mouth as if to say something – maybe apologise – and the demon used this opportunity to slide his two fingers into the warm wet heat. ‘Lick them clean.’

In reality there wasn’t anything on them, but Ciel caught up quickly. He was more than happy to wrap his lips around the strong slim digits he adored so much, giving the demon a taste of the eagerness with which he’d repay him soon for the treats, for his patience, and for taking his mind to such a wonderful place. With a building flame in his stomach, he sighed contentedly around the marvellous pressure on his tongue as the muscle swirled around and in between the fingers. He sucked. He moaned. He drank up the taste of his devil’s skin like the sweetest of nectars, all the while hoping he would add another, suddenly finding himself aching for more flesh. To be filled.

But it ended just as suddenly as it began. Ciel’s happy, content bubble was burst, leaving him cold. All it took was a fingertip just a millimetre too deep in his throat and an unexpected palm on his groin for a jolt to shake him. To snap open his eyes and pull his arms in front of him as if to catch himself from a fall.

And oh, he _was_ falling. Right out of Sebastian’s safe embrace, right out of that peaceful warmth he cocooned him in. He failed. He disobeyed. He was a disappointment, unable to show gratitude and do what was expected of him. It was only logical that he’d now fall out of his dominant’s good graces, lose his touch. All logic was lost to him too, and any coherent thought fled from his grasp in his paramount though unreasonable terror. 

Sebastian wondered if this is what vertigo felt like – how sometimes he hated to smell his Master’s soul so clearly, the sudden change now leaving him dizzy and dumbfounded. Ah, how volatile humans were, how unstable their emotions. He removed his hands from him, his head thick and swimming from the swirling waves of heavy panic that coiled around him. He didn’t dwell on his odd displeasure with such an aroma when it came from his Lord. Instead, for a moment, he let himself witness the tragic scene unfolding in front of him with the same kind of morbid fascination as one might have when watching rulers die and kingdoms fall; though how different it was when it was his own king breaking. He watched him double over, almost bend in half over his legs where he knelt and sat on his feet; he watched him hide his face and cover his mouth to stifle the dry sobs, all the while trying to utter words that might have been apologies. The once-butler had a moment of worry about his asthma with the way he was nearly hyperventilating. Even when in subspace, this kind of reaction was abnormal. It was madness; one that the demon didn’t find agreeable. If it wasn’t for his devilish sense, he might have thought the mortal was exaggerating. Faking it. Maybe even _mocking_ him. But alas, his fear was alarmingly and unreasonably genuine.

The demon leaned forward once more, words of comforting reason on his tongue, but he faltered. He felt it, again – the same unexplainable sensation that he caught a glimpse of when he reprimanded the human for the first time. Even though it was much stronger now, he had no hope of putting a single name on it, though it helped him understand the overall picture – Ciel Phantomhive _wanted_ to be punished, to repent and be forgiven. He forced himself willingly deeper into a sense of guilt, spiralling further down into the darkness without even realising. That’s why he rejected all reason of the triviality of his transgression that his mind surely must have urged at him.

Sebastian has seen it before; subs needing _cleansing_ through _pain_. Needing forgiveness, just a brief taste of it – even if it was only a momentary substitute for an insignificant disobedience during the scene, and not atonement for whatever sins they kept hidden outside the bedroom. He could smell it on him, smell it in his soul; the tension, brimming just underneath his skin and heightened by his altered mental state as he shook at the demon’s feet. Sebastian could only guess what it was that plagued him. Deaths that he felt responsible for? Breaking the contract? He couldn’t know. Whatever it was, it left him shaking and incoherent, latching onto the briefest chance of repentance for it. 

Perhaps this was why he slipped into subspace so easily; perhaps, instinctively, he felt he would find what he didn’t even knew he sought. It wasn’t how he expected the scene to play out, but his Master was a constant, _addictive_ source of surprises, as always.

And Sebastian, being his faithful servant, would always provide.

In an attempt to get his attention, the demon placed a hand on his bowed head; although flinching as if expecting to be hit was not something he tried to accomplish. With a sigh he withdrew once more, opting for words whispered closely and softly.

‘Do you wish to repent, little one?’

Locks of slate hair brushed closer to the demon’s shoe. Words were spoken to the floor. ‘P-please. Punish me, sir.’

The demon gave the human no evidence of how his words utterly astounded him.

‘Stand up, then.’ Ciel visibly wobbled, his legs numb from kneeling for so long. Still, he stood up but kept his head down; a picture of honest contrition. His shoulders rose to his ears when the demon got up too and stood tall before him. ‘Go and bend over the footboard of the bed.’

Unable to suppress a shiver, the man obeyed with fear but also trust. He turned his head away from Sebastian, pressing his left cheek into the soft linens as his fingers clenched and unclenched around the fabric nervously. The sound of an opening metal buckle and the slide of a leather belt through fabric loops made his knees weak.

‘Look at me.’

This was somewhat a more difficult order than to expose himself, but Ciel wasn’t going to defy his dominant any further. He turned his head and looked at Sebastian’s lips – anything but his eyes – with a glassy gaze, trying very hard to not whimper at the sight of the looped leather belt in his hand. Sebastian’s expression was a carefully crafted mixture of sternness but without anger.

‘Ten strikes, with your clothes on first to warm you up. Your colour.’ He informed, reminding the terrified youth that he had a chance to back out, to use his safe word, to order the demon to stop, should he wish.

‘G-green, sir.’

‘Very well, then.’

Fear beyond measure and eagerness made for quite an unusual aroma that pulled the demon in to stand behind his trembling mortal, his little rump presented to him invitingly. As he ran his free hand over its curve, feeling the tough material of his trousers, the most minute whimpers reached his ears. The body beneath his palm was like a taut string or coil desperate for release, and so the devil didn’t delay any longer.    

Somewhat thrilled by the new turn of the situation and morbidly fascinated with the idea of hurting his contractor at his _own_ request, he landed the first hit. The man yelled upon impact; a sweet symphony to the creature’s ears, though the demon did find himself wishing there wasn’t such mental agony in that voice, tainting the music.

The next three strikes were delivered in quick succession, after which he gave his human time to recover from the onslaught of pain who groaned and writhed where he half-lay, as if trying to crawl out of his burning skin. The ache ebbed away, slowly, wave after wave, turning the man’s grunts and yelps to softer, teary whines. With dread, he awaited the next lashes, tensing his muscles just half a second before he was struck again.

The remaining six times, the belt was brought down in an evenly timed manner, jolting the frail body at a predictable pace. By the time the demon was done – with the _beginning_ of the punishment, at least – the man’s behind was almost numb with a throbbing heated ache.

Giving him a longer time to recover, Sebastian spared a moment to really take in the sight of the quivering mess of a young man before him. The quivering mess that his _Master_ let the demon reduce him to. The beast did not understand the mechanics of this transformed mentality – the thought process, or rather, the instincts. He understood what was taking place, he’s seen it many times. He knew the man wasn’t actually facing _the demon_. Not his contracted demon, anyway. The whole scene was a surrogate exchange. For reasons the demon could not understand, could not _empathise_ with, Ciel needed to give up control. Somehow, illogically, he needed his once-servant to force the agony from his mind through the collar on his neck, through dominance, through _beating_.

To utterly break him until pain seeped out of his scattered pieces. Then rebuild him.

Neither the human nor the demon was sure _why_ it would help, but they simply knew that it would.

Neither of them also knew nor noticed when their little scene changed to anything but sexual. The demon didn’t understand why he did not mind.

He had previous contractors who enjoyed indulging in similar scenes; though in those cases, it was Sebastian who was on the receiving end, with his charges enjoying taking control, unlike his current, blue-haired Lord. In those past scenes, the demon himself could never enter subspace; he never sought it out in the first place. He briefly wondered if he’d be able to understand it better if he had, but quickly dismissed the thought – he could never fully penetrate the depths of the human psyche.

But no matter. Though he didn’t fully understand it, he knew what Ciel _needed_.

Slowly, gently, he undid his submissive’s pants to expose his reddened backside, taking a moment to run his cold fingers across the hot flesh and not missing the shiver that it earned him. He took off Ciel’s shoes so that he could rid him of the rest of his clothing, finally leaving him completely bare. Each of his movements was carefully thought-out and calculated, none of them redundant or out of place. Meanwhile, the trembling human’s mind still couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought. He was an exposed nerve, susceptible and sensitive to the smallest of touches, feeling _everything_. _Needing_. Aching for something he neither knew nor understood.

‘You’re being very good, pet.’ He spoke quietly, leaning over at the side of the bed by Ciel’s head. He stood in his field of vision, trying to catch his hazy eyes. ‘Are you hurting?’

Through the mixed chaos wrapped in a fog of confusion in his mind, the bluenet realised he was being spoken to, but the words were reaching him with difficulty, like rays of light through depths of muddy water. _He fell and sank after all, didn’t he?_ It only slowly came to him that it was _Sebastian_ – the demon, his _master_. There was something wrong with that thought, but he couldn’t dwell on that – he had to answer. The man struggled to find his voice again, to speak, dreading defying him and being _bad_ once more. On some basic, primal level, he felt undeserving of the gentleness in the other’s voice; not after he crossed him in the first place, even though the nature of his misdeeds has long since escaped his mind. His entire core shook with the pure uninhibited need to obey. To be _good_. To be praised by him.

And, unbeknownst to the demon – to be _loved_ by him.

His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish out of water before the breathless words finally left the tip of his tongue. ‘Yes, sir.’

 _Good_ , the demon wanted to say, but refrained from it. _This is what you need_. ‘Do you want to be forgiven, little one?’

He almost wailed. He _needed_ it so much he could shatter from it. ‘Please… _Please_ , sir.’

Intrusive thoughts swam in the demon’s mind incessantly; he could _ruin_ him so deliciously. With the man being in such a fragile and vulnerable place, the devil’s sadistic core almost keened in delight at the thought of mounting the little one like an animal, using him roughly and mercilessly like an object for his own depraved pleasure. Watching the utter betrayal of an almost boundless trust. Hearing the deafening shattering of his soul whilst he’d try to pick up the pieces of his consciousness and put them back together to bring himself back to reality while being overwhelmed and abused. He didn’t _want_ to do it. But he knew he _could_. And if he were to let his aroused, vile instincts run free, he knew he _would_. Therefore, it was with a fully conscious choice that the demon ended up protecting and serving, rather than destroying.

And so instead, Sebastian brushed a stray lock of hair from the man’s eye, who shuddered at the touch. ‘I will give you five more strikes. Take them silently. Do not make a sound.’ For the demon, it still hardly mattered – these ‘transgressions’ were essentially meaningless, non-existent. But it was all part of the scene. He would happily tell his shivering human that he was already forgiven. But that wouldn’t do. Ciel needed to feel the challenge, the effort of repentance. Letting him off that easily wouldn’t bring him the emotional release that he craved. Sebastian knew that.

That’s why he walked back around his small charge, still bent over that dark wooden footboard. He readjusted his grip on the loop of his belt, dragging the leather across a pink buttock to help Ciel become fully aware that the hits would now be delivered to his bare skin. The man almost jumped out of it at the initial sensation, expecting hard lashes straight away. He sighed soundlessly, almost relaxing, before the belt was pulled away and brought down with force against his left buttock. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped in a silent scream.

Sebastian could hear it all against the echo of the loud slap. The blood rushing through his Master’s veins from his hammering heart. The snapping of his jaw and the grinding of his teeth as the pain settled in. The erratic rush of air through his nose.

‘One.’

He hit again, this time the other cheek.

‘Two.’

The sensations on his branded hand varied back and forth between sizzling fire, the mark straining against the suffering and pain the demon was causing his contractor, and pleasant, comforting warmth almost like trickling water at the release and absolution that this abuse was delivering. He couldn’t decide whether it was for better or worse that he could not see his face. Ciel himself didn’t have time to ponder on such things; with shut eyes, clenched teeth, and trembling lips, he fought against the wave of tears just behind his eyelids. He had to be good. He had to be forgiven. He would not scream, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much it hurt.

‘Three.’

He shook, curled his toes, clenches his fists. What would happen if he didn’t stay silent for the last two? He lost his breath at the thought. What he wanted was just to be freed from this shameful burden of disobedience.

So wrapped up was he in his fear of _what if_ that he lost track of reality just for a split of second. A split of second too long. The fourth strike came and caught him unprepared. It was only after the pain came but the counting didn’t that he realised he cried out in pain.

Something akin to hysteria ensued but he tried to keep it down, as if keeping silent now would somehow diminish the offence of his insubordination. Ciel _failed_. _Again_. The man became light-headed, and his eyes hurt from the sheer force of trying to keep the tears at bay. What was he going to do? He was given a chance at redemption, and he ruined it all. He was a disappointment, as he has always been.

Sebastian wasn’t surprised. The demon knew it had _hurt_ , knew that his little Lord wasn’t used to such harsh treatment – at least not since many years. He wasn’t disappointed, either. He wasn’t angry. It didn’t matter to him whether Ciel stayed silent or not – he didn’t find pleasure or a rush of satisfying power, trying to control his charge in such a trivial, physical way and seeing him struggle to obey. He was doing it purely for the human’s own benefit. And now, he could smell the agony seeping out of his every pore as it filled the room mercilessly, making the air thick in his nose. He almost staggered on his feet.

There was a reluctance in his step as he walked back over to crouch in front of the scrunched up, suffering face of his temporary submissive. It was one of those times when he felt an unnerving ache in his chest. Unexplainable, too, for all he knew he was incapable of having a heart and _feeling_.

‘You’ve made a sound, pet.’

The demon knew the human was barely able to think in his panic. He needed to make the situation clear and simple for him to process it. Once more, all he wanted was to tell him he was forgiven anyway, and to stop this whole ordeal. The mark on his hand was a deep, dull-edged but mercilessly crushing throb. He assumed this is what heartache and sadness felt like. He hated the way the man – looking once more like the small boy he was years ago – shook, buried his face in the mattress in shame and sobbed tearlessly. It sounded like apologies spilling from his lips, but he couldn’t be sure. The demon wanted it to stop just as much as his small Master did. But again, that wouldn’t do. They both committed to five silent strikes, and Sebastian berated himself for not going with three. Showing pity now though was pointless; not when Ciel so desperately chased after just penance.

‘But I think we can try again.’ Ciel almost wanted to protest against the demon’s words; wanted to argue he was undeserving, but the creature saw right through him. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?’

To Sebastian’s surprise, that got Ciel to stop shaking somewhat. As if his words got through to him, once he processed them. He even gave a small, timid nod in response.

‘Good. I’m going to give you… two more lashes, like we agreed. The previous ones won’t count. But.’ There had to be a catch. There had to be a new challenge. ‘These will be much harder than before. And I want you to stay silent again. If you do, your punishment will be over. Do you understand?’

Again, a small nod from the man, but barely visible with how his head was pressed into the sheets. Sebastian himself was nothing but hesitant. Would his little Lord be able to handle it? He genuinely wanted him to, for Ciel’s own sake. The demon felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, not wanting to strike his Master and make him struggle to hold back his cries, but also knowing that it was necessary. He stood behind him, eyeing the red, clearly tender skin warily. The hand wielding the belt suddenly felt so heavy; the thought of hitting his Master again most unpleasant. The game lost its appeal. What would be easiest on him? Two quick strikes one after the other, or giving him time to recover between them? No, the latter clearly did not work. He needed to be fast, delivering pain in one single massive dose to hopefully render the man silent. For just a moment he wondered how much everything changed – wasn’t he, a demon, supposed to derive pleasure from such suffering?

As through the entire ordeal, Ciel was a single ball of tension, all his muscles clenched and ready for the strikes. Or so he hoped. Desperate, he bit the inside of his lower lip harshly – anything, to stop himself from crying out. He felt as if the wait caused him just as much agony.

But then finally, _oh finally_ , the strikes came. He saw white.

The demon stood still and silent after the second hit, counting the milliseconds that passed since he delivered the first one. A few passed. Then a full second. Then two. Five.

Silence.

He realised the man wasn’t even breathing.

The demon walked up to him for the final time, carding his fingers through his hair and found himself relieved when the bluenet didn’t flinch away.

‘Well done, pet. You’ve done so well. You’re forgiven. It’s over now.’

Teary mismatched eyes shyly met his own, before the man finally broke. He choked out the breath he held in a harsh sound; tears finally fell down his face and dripped onto the sheets. Merciless sobs shook his entire frame. His teeth were stained crimson after he bit inside his mouth.

‘ _Oh_ , little one… No, don’t hide yourself from me. Come now, come.’ The creature cooed, helping his weeping Master stand, letting him lean into his body for comfort. Grabbing a blanket on his way and wrapping it around the smaller body, he led him out of that bedroom charged with bad experiences and into the kitchen. The scene was definitely over.

He sat him down on the two stacked cushions on the floor by the low table. Not bothering with human methods, a hot cup of chamomile tea was placed in front of the man immediately as Sebastian sat himself down beside him. However, it wasn’t the comfort of the drink that Ciel sought, but that of the demon’s hold, and he made it more than clear when he leaned once more into his chest and grabbed onto his shirt which soaked up and muffled all the sobs and teary sniffles that continued to spill out of him.

‘It’s over. Come back to me now, little Master.’

The demon continued to stroke his head, giving him time to come back down. As he did so, he had time to think about what had just taken place between them, though he wasn’t sure _what_ to think. For his own part, he felt an odd distant discomfort in the very skin he wore, as if it crawled with something – something _human_ – and therefore so infuriatingly out of his understanding. He wondered if he himself was affected by the whole scene in ways he didn’t realise until now – he wondered if his own thinking and rationales adapted to his dominant role, delivering painful punishment as well as an almost coddling aftercare where required. Although it was certain that the most vexing and enthralling wonder was the boy himself. But _ah_ , he wasn’t a _boy_ anymore – they wouldn’t be engaging in such activities if he was. But how could he not think of him as one when he sobbed and curled himself up against him so? And he mesmerised him still, just like he did since he was a child. The demon expected him to cautiously dip his toes to test out the waters; not to submerge himself in submission, completely and with abandon. In hindsight, it was a ridiculous expectation since the man he made kneel at his feet was no other than Ciel Phantomhive.  

When he dragged his mind out of his musings, he found himself with his now still Lord in his lap and embrace, his arms wrapped around the blanketed body. He could sense that, though still fragile, the man has almost fully returned to himself; his soul was quietened, but not subdued. He offered him the forgotten cup of tea. ‘You should drink something, young Master. It will soothe you.’

Ciel felt as if he was coming to after being knocked out or given an anaesthetic that rendered him without control of his own body but conscious. He felt calm, light, peaceful; and yet skittish at the same time. The silence rang in his ears, his head and lungs were heavy as if a balloon had popped – perhaps _inside him_ – and he was recovering from the fright and the loud noise of the bang and his scream which he knew he never let out. And so when his sobbing ceased and the tea was offered while he was still regaining his senses, his first instinct was to refuse but the demon persisted, asking him to be reasonable and give his body something warm and hydrating. It took another while of convincing before the familiar smell was registered in his mind and the cup was finally accepted.

As he sipped the pleasantly warm drink, more specifics than just the immediate physical surroundings started to register, too. The recollections of what they’ve done – what _he did_ ; how he humiliated himself, how he crawled on his knees, how he wept so pathetically and ridiculously without reason at the demon’s feet. How he begged to be hit. How it suddenly became so vital to him. And, how against all logic, it had all left him feeling purified once it was over.

It didn’t make sense to him in the slightest.

He realised he was still sitting in his devil’s lap; the idea might have had mortified him if he hadn’t embarrassed himself beyond reason that evening already. With a merciless ache in his heart, he realised it was only a matter of seconds before the demon would surely throw him off and taunt him senseless – maybe he would finally kill him too in his boundless disappointment.

‘Talk to me, young Master. I can almost feel your inner turmoil myself.’

The man swallowed once, twice, hearing the voice above his head. ‘I don’t-’ His voice was weak, so he cleared his throat. ‘I don’t know… I don’t know what happened, Sebastian.’

‘Do you mean you don’t remember?’

‘No. No, I… I mean, I’ve done such unreasonable things that I _wish_ I didn’t remember them.’

‘ _Ah_.’ He was silent for a while. ‘I _do_ apologise for turning this evening into a source of regret for you. Rest assured I shall not encourage you to engage in anything similar ever again.’

Ciel, somewhat exasperated, felt his heart sink. ‘No. No, that’s not what I _meant_. I don’t regret it. And I don’t understand why; the- the way I’ve ashamed myself, willingly… You must hold me in such disdain now. And yet I- it left me feeling so tranquil. Just what have you done to me, devil?’

He felt more than heard him chuckle. ‘If you’re implying I have used my powers in any way for any ulterior motives this evening, you are mistaken, Lord. I simply brought you to this different state of mind I spoke of, and it was your choice that you let yourself be led. And no, I do not think any less of you for it, if that really worries you so. On the contrary, I was rather impressed with how you performed your role, and I am glad to hear you did find release after all, more than a physical one.’

The explanation brought the man relief, but he still bit his lip, one question burning in his mind since he became coherent again. ‘Do… _you_ regret it?’ The fragile chest seized up again. ‘I didn’t even- Let me-’ A timid hand reached out to the front of Sebastian’s slacks, but a slender hand caught his wrist as soon as it made contact. 

‘Not tonight, little one.’ His voice was firm.

‘But-’

‘ _No_.’

Ciel’s eyebrows pinched in confusion and frustration. ‘But do you-’

‘ _No_. I do not regret it. In all honesty, I do not understand why you would ask such a question.’ Ciel’s small mouth opened to speak again but the devil was faster to disperse the doubts himself. ‘You know I do not lie.’

‘Alright.’ He wriggled the fingers of his captured hand. ‘But I could still-’

‘Young Master, _no_. I said, _not tonight_. I shall prepare your supper and then you should rest.’

The mortal was oddly warmed by the demon’s strange behaviour. It almost seemed as if it was his own way of- It almost seemed as if-

As if he _cared_.

Sebastian shifted him to put him back on the cushions while he moved to stand before a hand reached out for him again and grabbed his sleeve. A hurried, reckless action, but he would own up to it and ask what he intended.

‘Can we do it again?’

A question. Not an order. He waited with bated breath.

A smile. Warmth in blood-red eyes. A chaste kiss planted on his forehead.

‘Yes, my Lord.’

 

Curiosity did indeed kill the cat, but satisfaction certainly brought him back – and so Ciel was happy to die that kind of little death once more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love soft Sebaciels and soft BDSMs with a lot of emphasis on the emotions and thoughts throughout it, can you tell?  
> Was it OOC? Probably. Do I care? Probably not, lol ~~Ok maybe a bit...~~ I've wanted to write something like this for so so long, and so I had the time of my life finally putting it together. I'd be grateful for any feedback! ^-^ 
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a second chapter to it (when they actually get to do what initially planned) but I'm not sure when... 
> 
> Many thanks to chromehoplite, chlometov, and demonofphantomhive for their super kind encouragements and support! <3
> 
> Say hi on [ tumblr ](http://fishnatu.tumblr.com/) if you'd like, that would be awesome ^^


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